Word Vomit: How to Train your Dragon
by Weapon-VII
Summary: One-shots, drabbles, snippets, scenes, etc... An exercise in attempting to better my writing skill. Will write down whatever strikes my fancy. Any and all ideas are free for anyone to use. Will probably suck. General Feedback and Constructive Criticism is welcome. This story will contain all my How to Train your Dragon ideas. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Word Vomit #2 "Spitelout gets thrashed"

How to Train your Dragon

* * *

The Great Hall.

A vast cavern, set within the mountain itself. Generations of Hairy Hooligans have added to it, the great doors, the carved pillars, the tapestries covering the walls, all works of art. It has served as a place of refuge, during raids, of both human and dragon.

It also serves as the cultural and religious heart of the tribe. Things, both great and minor, have been held in the hall. Unions between houses. Naming ceremonies.

You could also get a decent bowl of fish and turnip soup every Thor's day.

This is where Astrid Haddock found herself after a long day. The warm hall allowed her to remove her furs and she didn't want to wear her armor during dinner. Dressed in her beautiful, yet well made clothing, she cut an impressive figure. Golden hair braided to one side, which glowed in the firelight, that was the envy of women. Strong arms and torso, mighty enough to cleave a enemy in two with a single strike, that was the envy of warriors. Eyes which glimmer like sapphire. Tall height and a strong personality which commanded all to listen.

She was currently sitting in her personal chair, to the right of the throne. In front of her is her soup along with several pages of parchment. She recently had Fishlegs and his apprentices complete a census of the tribe, listing each House. During her first raid as War Leader, by a hostile tribe, she witnessed several tribe mates less than satisfactory skill with combat. Taking her duties seriously, she worked to devise a training schedule for each combat ready tribe mate. The tricky part is doing it in such a way that did not impact everyone's daily responsibility, such as farming, weaving and cooking. Can't have the entire tribe train at once.

Her eyes are drawn from the table, to a commotion in the middle of the hall. Sitting at a table, appeared to be the entire Reinndottir house. Blubbernose, the warrior of the house, seems to be squaring off with a visible drunk Spitlout. Snotlout was behind his father, trying to drag his father away from the increasingly red Blubbernose. Eventualy Snotlout succeeded, pushing his father away while apologizing to the Reinndottir's.

Astrid watched with a mix of disgust and approval. Disgust at the gradual degrading of Spitlout's character, while approval at Snotlout's actions and sense of responsibility for his father. It had taken a better part of a decade, with plenty of frustration on Astrid's and Hiccup's end, but it seems that Snotlout has finally matured into a proper and responsible adult.

Most of the time.

Turning her attention back to her own work, she continues working, taking an occasional spoonful of soup. She finished the first page, before the smell of unwashed body and alcohol caused her to look up again. She was not surprised to see Spitelout.

"Yes Spitelout?" She sighed as she pushed her work to the side. Spitelout has recently started to look worse and she guessed it was a drinking and marriage problem. He stunk to Asgard, his clothes were unwashed and his skin had an unhealthy pallor.

Snotlout was nowhere to be seen.

"Yea, I gah summin." Spitelout speech is nearly not understandable due to his drunken slur. "Loo a you. Sup hik unff."

"Uh-huh." Astrid is willing to give him a few moments before she takes matters into her own hands. Her soup is going to go cold and Hiccup will be here soon.

"Eye hert abut yur plash. Tryn to taish everyun…" This went on for a little bit. As far as she could understand him, he was criticizing her plan to train all of Berk, Hiccup, her taste in house decoration, the fact that she chose to marry Hiccup and not Snotlout, her new weapons and armor that Hiccup made her when she was proclaimed as champion, her hair style, her role as War Leader and how no women should be allowed to be War Leader. The only thing keeping her from kicking his ass, ten ways to next wash day, was that it was unsportsmanlike to beat up a drunk.

Still even her patience is not without limits. Just as she was getting up to drag him home, Snotlout finally shows up. She could see him frantically look around, before spotting his father by her. Snotlout's face paled before he ran over.

"Odin's left nut, I'm so sorry about this Astrid! C'mon dad, let's get you in bed." Snotlout looks apologetically to her, before grabbing his dad's arm to pull him away. Spitelout stubbornly planted his feet, while holding on to the table's edge.

"Lesth me gohh, sztupit boyu!" By this time, the entire hall stopped to watch the show. It didn't help that Spitelout was screaming at the top of his lungs. Astrid palmed her face, embarrassed for Snotlout. Thank the gods her father or Hiccup never had a taste for an excessive amount of mead.

"Spitelout, for the sake of your dignity and the dignity of your house, please go home before you embarrass yourself further." Spitelout stops and stares at her. Except for his skill in combat and command in battle, respect is not something you ever associate with Spitelout.

He keeps on staring at her as she stares back. He proceeds to spit at her. It landed on her left shoulder.

She saw it happen.

She could have dodged or blocked it.

She just couldn't believe anyone was that stupid to do something like that to her. Drunk or not.

The entire hall gasped as one. Snotlout turned whiter than sun bleached bone. Snotlout continued to leer at her before letting out a belch. Astrid's vision went red with rage.

With a battle cry, she leaped over the table, kicking Spitelout to the ground. She then proceeded to give him a thrashing.

"You stupid shit head! How dare you! **How dare you!** Hiccup made me this tunic! The dye was from Venezia! The silk was from Agrabah! You stupid…!"

By this time Snotlout and several others successfully pulled her off Spitelout. She shrugged them off as she stared at Spitelout's battered form. Snotlout heaved his father over his shoulder as he took him home, apologizing profusely.

Everyone slowly backed away, being careful around a still furious Astrid. She stomped back into her chair and sat with a grunt. Looking at her shoulder, she grew more angry at both herself and Spitelout. She should have known better to wear such a delicate fabric to the hall, yet what was the point of having such a nice piece of clothing, if she couldn't wear it in fear of other idiots!

Scrubbing it will thin and potentially break the fabric, while washing it with soup would cause it to discolor. She huffed in anger.

"Hello milady." She turned to Hiccup as he walked up to her, giving him a kiss. He looked at her angry face with a frown. "What happened?"

"Spitelout decided to ruin my tunic, that muttonhead." She showed him the spot in question.

"Are you kidding me?" Hiccup sighed as he pulled out some clean linen cloth. "Here lets see if we could clean it."

With how much he stank of alcohol and the grease on his beard, she doubted the Spitelouts spit was that clear. After a few seconds, if anything the spot got bigger. There must have been more grease and food than spit in his mouth.

"It's okay Hiccup, we'll figure something out."

"Maybe we could wash the entire thing with soup. It might fade evenly."

Astrid thought about it. It might be enough to save it. Leave it to Hiccup to make the best of a bad situation.

She turned and smiled at him.

"So, how was your day?"

* * *

AN: Originally it was supposed to be a fight between Astrid and Spitelout for position of War Leader/Marshall/General.

Other notes

 _Spitelout_ \- Spitelout does not think Astrid is capable of being War Leader. Spitelout is also sexist. While he knows that women can fight, he thinks that they can't lead and leading is a man's job. Snotlout did go down this path at first. Thanks to the gang and time away from Spitelout's influence, he changed his ways.

 _Odin's left nut._ \- The inspiration for this bit of profanity comes from the amazing Red Star and his How to Train your Dragon X Frozen crossover called "Of State." If you haven't read it yet, please check it out. It's on

 _Astrid as War Leader._ \- Astrid is a badass warrior and the most skilled of her age group. It's annoying to see her delegated as Hiccup's love interest, a mother, a wife, a damsel in distress, and nothing else. That is not to say that all fanfics are like that, just a distressingly large percentage. Most recent inspiration for Astrid as a badass and in a position of authority is A Thing of Vikings by athingofvikings. If you haven't read it yet, please check it out. It's on and

 _War Leader._ \- Normally the Chief is also the War Leader. The War Leader is responsible for the tribe during battle. Hiccup changed this by making War Leader a separate position, not only due to increased responsibility on his end, in administration and diplomacy, but also that there are other, more martial minded candidates. Another name for the position I considered is "Master of War" and "War Lord." Inspiration is from A Thing of Vikings by athingofvikings.


	2. 3 The Worst Bloodsucker: Origin

Word Vomit #3 "The Worst Bloodsucker: Origin"

How to Train your Dragon

Tags: How to Train your Dragon, AU, Vampires, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Dagur the Deranged

Warning: Death. Rape. Do not read if these kind of things upset you.

* * *

 _Berk_

 _The 25th year of Cheif Stoick "the Vast" of Clan Haddock_

It called to him.

He could hear it, see it, smell it, taste it.

Blood.

Sweet, sweet blood.

The screams of the dying, the living and the damned was all around him. In front of him, fire from the Waltheofsson and Padarson halls illuminated the market square, while raiders set fire to the Mac Oilibhéir hall. He can't tell if they have Rosebreath or Itchyeyes on the ground, screaming and trying to get the raider off of her, but he knows Jitters is dead, the fire illuminating his head, pinned against the hall.

To his right, over by the Great Hall, he could see the defenders on the steps, a shield wall holding back the enemy, spears bristling out and ready to stab any who got to close. Those not part of the shield wall stood further back, near the doors with bows and crossbows, shooting over the shield wall at the enemy. But the enemy was not of man and Midgard, for they surely must have come from Hel's domain, as fast as a Nadder, as tough as a Gronkle and as deadly as a Nightmare. Even now he could see the shield wall take several steps back, as two of their ranks were pulled towards Hel's horde, screaming in rage and terror.

To his left, he could see what remains of his father and uncle. They came charging towards the enemy, axe and sword in hand, cleaving through them like a mighty storm. Hope grew within him, hoping that they would get to him and his wife, when it died as he saw his uncle fall. A jagged claw came from behind, tearing through the back of his uncles right ankle. His father turned to help and in that moment, they were overwhelmed, a hand gouging out his father's eye, before he fell. Even now, he could see the wretches feasting on their corpses, hands and teeth tearing out muscle and organ.

And before him, lay his dutiful wife, within her, their unborn child. Her brown eyes were filled with terror and fear. Her dark hair was dirty with dirt and blood. Her clothing was ripped, exposing her breasts and belly, heavy with child. Her right hand, broken. Her weapon, a sword he made for her, shattered between them. Above her, pinning her down by her forearms, a monster in human flesh.

"Brother…"

The monster grinned, eyes red like a ruby he once saw on a trader's ship. His mouth is filled with fangs and blood covered his mouth, chin and armor, staining it all crimson. The sword that he thrust into his chest was still there, but if the monster noticed it, he did nothing to remove it.

Dagur the Deranged has come to Berk and laid waste to it.

The Berserk chief came at night, landing his fleet in the light of the moon, an impossible task considered by all but the foolish. Taken by surprise, the raiders were able to land and unload all of their warriors. Including the revenants, Draugr. Mostly fallen warriors, the dead shambled ahead of the main force, sowing fear and terror among the hooligans. Shambling and falling apart, they were easily defeated.

Or so the Hooligans thought.

Those that have been pierced or knocked down, rose again. And again. And again. Even cutting off the head did nothing to stop the body from blindly lashing out. Only by removing the limbs and head, cutting them into small enough pieces, truly removed them from the fight, leaving the parts to wiggle and thrash impotently on the ground.

But it took time to stop an opponent in such a way. Time enough for other draugr to surround and bring the defenders down. But the Hooligans learned that the draugr were a distraction from the real enemy.

Tired and terrified, the Hooligans were unprepared for Berserk warriors, charging between the draugr. Clad in their strongest armor and wielding the finest weapons, the Berserkers laid waste into the defenders. It wasn't until one of them bit and drained the blood of Frostback Thorston, that their true inhuman nature showed itself.

He was fighting one of them, alongside Grim the Sour and Tails Ingerman, when Dagur himself arrived, flanked by his honor guard. His freshly sharpened blade pierced Dagur's chest, when he was knocked down and held in place by two of the guards.

"Is that little Hiccup?" Dagur knelt by him, taking his helmet off and revealing his grin. "It is!"

"Dagur!" Hiccup yelled, "How dare you! We had a treaty! Oathbreaker! Fuc-" He was cut off as Dagur placed his hand over his mouth, shutting him up.

"Oh, Hiccup, the things I will show you." His face became more beast than man, teeth becoming fangs, "The things I will do to you…"

Dagur lowered his mouth to Hiccup's neck. Hiccup thrashed and tried to get them off of him, but the hands holding him down had the strength of his father. Then he felt a pain like no other, followed by paralysis. He could feel Dagur piercing his neck, but he couldn't move, couldn't scream, nothing.

As he felt his blood leaving him, as darkness encroached on his vision, he thought of his father, wife, family, friends, Berk.

He thought of his unborn child.

 _I'm sorry…_

Darkness claimed him.

But it was not meant to be.

Light burst back into his vision. He tried to sit up, gasping as much air as he could, feeling like he ran around the entire island in one run. He felt as hot as if he had a fever. Cold as if he skinny dipped into the ocean during winter. He felt pins and needles all throughout his body. Pain. Pleasure. All crashing in him.

Above him, Dagur stood up, blood dripping from a cut on his palm.

"Now you will be truly my brother." Dagur stopped, thinking with his hand on his chin. "Or maybe my child? I did bring you back…"

He waved his hand in dismissal.

"Bah! It doesn't matter, let's get this baby his first meal." He called to his men. "Bring his wife!"

And Hiccup found himself in front of his wife, he on his hands and knees, she on her back, held down by Dagur.

Hiccup was still confused and out of it. He didn't know what was going on. But he knew one thing.

He was hungry.

He was so, so hungry.

She was closest to him. Her blood sang to him, beating it's rhythm. He started to crawl over to her, ignoring her pleading.

"Hiccup? Hiccup, please, what are you doing?" Her pleading did not reach him, not really. He heard her, but all of his focus was on her beautiful, beautiful neck.

"He can't hear you. He can't hear anything, nothing but the hunger." The monster giggled. "Don't worry, soon you and him will be together for all eternity, until Ragnarok."

"Hiccup, please stop…" She continued to sob as I came closer to her neck, ready to feed.

But he stopped.

He felt something under his hand, something that cut through the hunger. Looking down, he saw that he placed his left hand on her belly. He kept looking even as he felt it again.

A kick.

His child, his unborn child. It's still alive, still kicking. His child that he and his wife…

By Odin.

What is he doing? He backed up, falling on the ground, staring into the wide eyes of his wife.

He almost killed her! He almost killed his child!

"Well…" He looked up at Dagur, looking at him with eyes filled with disappointment. "Looks like our new brother is a failure."

Dagur looked off to the side and nodded. The next thing that Hiccup knew, was darkness, as someone struck the back of his head.

* * *

AN: The very first time I was exposed to vampires, I was still living in Chicago, so somewhere before 1997. I was about 7 years old and my older brother got a bootleg copy of Vampire Hunter D on VHS. At the time, I didn't know what I was watching, I thought it was some kind of weird cartoon. But it stuck with me. Something about eternal, blood sucking, hypnotizing, undead creatures stayed with me for the rest of my life.

I have enough ideas for this, that I will be making a series of drabbles titled, "The Worst Bloodsucker." If possible, I'll plan on making this into a full fledged story, maybe a multi-part. Along with Vampire Hunter D, I will be using ideas, names and concepts from the following series.

Castlevania

Dracula

Nosferatu

Old World of Darkness

Blade

Hellsing

… and many more.

Other notes

 _Hiccup's wife_ \- She is not Astrid, Heather, Camicazi or any How to Train your Dragon girl. She is a throwaway OC.

Inspired by:

E (hyphen) (hyphen) wills (on Tumblr) / E (period) wills (on Fanfiction) - specifically her drabble "Vamp-bros" and all her vampire HTTYD notes, located on her Tumblr.

BlueberryToasterTart (on Fafiction) - Their fic "Darkest Night".


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